Still Standing
by AnnaGhost94
Summary: Set after the end of Crisis Core-Cloud is making his way through the wilds, alone, with Zack's sword-but Zack is not as dead as they thought...but how? And what does it have to do with Cloud?
1. Chapter 1

**I have not played any Final Fantasy game, I have only watched a walkthrough of Crisis Core and then Last Order-thanks to LastOrder1 again for telling me about that! and Advent Children Complete. I don't know how much effect that will have upon my writing this stuff, but I expect I'll make a lot of mistakes in the canon and stuff, though of course this is a very AU story since Zack survives. Just so you are warned. There will be no slash because although I have nothing against it I don't much like reading or writing it, and I may get in Tifa and Aerith at some point but my priorities are Cloud and Zack-and I don't see why they'd have a problem loving each other and everything because they seem a lot like brothers to me and you have to remember they survived hell together. There's a bond in that. That's just what I think. So that's my plan, as far as it goes, and I hope you enjoy the story!**

**Still Standing**

Chapter 1:

Cloud crawled, desperate, dazed, bewildered. He did not have the strength to stand up, even to get to his hands and knees, his body broken, weakened, blasted. He did not understand. All he knew was that the icy rain was falling into his face and he felt sick and cold but alive, and Zack was lying there bleeding in the mud, without moving, and that he, Cloud, had to reach him. And that was why he dragged himself on trembling arms through the mud and pebbles, through the blood. So much blood…sounds of a battle like dreams, or nightmares, in his memory. His own slow awakening to the stench of shattered flesh. And Zack-fallen, cast down-it could not be. He stared down into that friend's face he knew better than his own, and he felt his heart breaking.

"Zack?" he whispered, his voice broken and cracked from horror, from disuse. It was the first word he had spoken in months. His friend, his brother, the only person he had left in the world, lay there bleeding, his body torn so horrendously even Cloud knew that there was no hope of repair. But Zack's eyes were open, glowing with that intense mako blue.

"For the…both of us," he breathed, his breath rattling in his destroyed throat. Cloud shook his head, not understanding.

"Both of us?"

"You're gonna…" Zack's voice faded out; he was too exhausted to speak. His arm lifted, trailing blood and mud, gripping Cloud by the side of the head in a gesture Cloud remembered, dimly, like a dream-some kind of comfort, a wordless fellowship. Now, a promise. Too weak to hold it up, too broken by this pain, Cloud's head dropped onto Zack's battered chest. He felt his shoulders heave in a great sob as Zack's voice breathed out: "_Live_." His hand slipped away-Cloud raised his head to stare down at his best friend through the blood-matted blond bangs. . "You'll be my...living legacy…" The survivor of the devastation of their lives, of the betrayal of all that they had ever believed in-the result of Zack's greatest sacrifice. _Living legacy_…And Cloud could not even speak, had no voice to hail Zack's life, Zack's dreams, Zack, his brother. No words.

"My honour, my dreams…" Zack's hand tightened on the hilt of the sword at his side, the muscles in his shoulder clenching. "They're yours now, Cloud." And somehow he lifted the heavy sword and Cloud reached up to take it, instinctively, stunned by grief, clenching his two hands around the long hilt as Zack's hand slipped back and splashed into the mud, spent.

"I am…your living legacy," Cloud whispered. A faint smile curved Zack's lips, and then he closed his eyes.

"No," Cloud murmured. "No no no-" His breath caught and suddenly the anguish seemed to explode inside him, all the pain and fear and the long lonely fight, only for this, this final _wrongness_, Zack, someone like Zack, who only ever wanted to be a hero, to do the right thing, who had given his life for an undeserving weakling failure like Cloud, Zack who was all he had in the world, Zack who meant more to him than anything, whom he emulated and admired and loved like a brother, who had given up so much for him-Zack who never wanted to die, just to be happy, to live and smile and laugh, and be with Aerith, and be free-Cloud tilted his head back and he heard his wild, animal scream echo beyond the sky, in furious, hopeless defiance of this ultimate wrongness and pain. Because Zack should never have had to die. Zack, of all people.

…

Sunlight gleamed through the sky washed clean of rain. Zack lay motionless, his face, though bloodstained and torn, strangely peaceful below Cloud, who now stumbled to his feet, leaning heavily on the sword, slipping in the clinging mud and almost falling. His sight was blurred with tears and sickness, and he barely knew where or even who he was. He only knew that Zack had told him to keep going, and so he would, no matter what.

"I won't forget," he whispered, his voice ravaged by pain and the long vague months of poison. He forced himself to turn away from Zack's motionless, broken body beneath him, then paused. "Goodnight, Zack," he said quietly, hoarsely, and he began to walk, more to stagger, through the mud in the direction of the rising sun.

The light beat down, brighter than it should have been. He wondered why every one of his senses seemed so enhanced, so sharp-he thought that he could hear the dust settle after every tread of his boots, see each individual ray of light glinting softly, striping the world around him like a dream. Unused to such an intensity of perception he felt a wave of dizziness rush over him and almost fell, clutching the sword, his one lifeline in the world. He hung over it, hanging onto the hilt, taking several deep breaths, his dripping, spiky blond hair flopping into his face.

"Zack," he whispered. "Zack…I'm so sorry…"

He barely understood why he should be sorry. His memory was, unlike his senses, slippery and unclear. Thinking back he remembered faint flashes-a dark-haired man in a white coat, sneering through a pain of green-tinted glass. Pain, so intense he wondered how it had not torn him apart, blinding and deadening and all-obliterating. Someone's voice speaking to him, telling him it would be all right, that they would make it through…he thought it was Zack. Movement, the smell of sweat and rain, a strong arm supporting him as he swayed and stumbled, unable to open his eyes, barely to keep on his feet.

Why? What happened to us? How did we get here?

He remembered a blade of agony driven straight through his body, the taste of blood filling his mouth, an anger and a strength such as he had never known. Lost in the memory his eyes narrowed, he heard himself speak through the pain, felt the agony withdrawn, a tall man with long white hair and wide, shocked eyes falling-_Sephiroth_-

Cloud's eyes snapped open. He had fallen to his knees beside the sword. His hands were shaking violently-he stared at them as if he had never seen them before. His breath came faster, in ragged panting gasps as he began to hyperventilate, as the memories flooded back. Sephiroth stabbing him, then himself somehow killing Sephiroth, then collapsing down on the stairs beside Zack…his hands fisted in the dust, he did not notice that his nails dug so deeply into his palms that thin rivulets of blood ran down his skin and pooled weakly on the ground. Months-_years_-of torture, blurring together. Lying bound to a table while someone jabbed at his helpless body with needles and knives, the face from his memory peering down at him with a sadistic scientific interest. Zack hugging him somewhere in a dark room while he trembled and convulsed uncontrollably.

No-the mako-Hojo-no, that's not true, it can't be true-it's just a nightmare…all a nightmare…

"_You're my living legacy…you're gonna live_…"

I have to keep going. I have to make it for Zack…

He reached out, gripped the sword hilt tightly once more and hauled himself to his feet, narrowing his eyes and fixing his sights on the horizon. There was only one way forward. Zack had done more than save his life, over and over again-Zack had _been_ his life. Being there for him throughout their shared torture at the hands of Hojo, literally dragging and carrying him for so many long months just to keep him alive, to get him out of the hell of their past…and then dying to protect him. Dying! Cloud's hands tightened on the sword.

He could not fail. Whatever happened, he could not allow Zack's sacrifice, his last unbelievable, immense sacrifice, to be in vain.

…

Zack liked it where he was lying. He was warm and comfortable, and there was light all around him, and freedom. And he knew that not so far behind him was cold and pain and uncertainty, and everything he wanted to leave behind.

It was just that something kept nagging him, like something he had forgotten before leaving on a long journey-when you _knew_ there was something important you'd left behind but couldn't quite work out what it was…a voice, a face. A girl with wide, serious eyes set in a pale, lovely face, cascading chestnut hair falling about her slender shoulders, arms bedecked with flowers. _Aerith_. And something else…all mixed in and confused with the pain and the fear and the heartache, something vital.

"I'm a country boy too…Nibelheim…I wish I was a SOLDIER… …I'm Cloud…" _Cloud_-

Cloud. His brother. The person with whom he had shared four long years of torment and terror in Hojo's lab. The person who he had carried on and on through the wilds towards Midgar, the destination that just never became any nearer, that they never stopped believing in…his little brother, or as good as. The person he had died for, or so he had thought. His best friend.

Cloud-and Aerith-something worth it-

His eyes slowly opened. He was lying on his back, staring up at a clear blue sky and a cold breeze ruffled his dark hair across his face. He raised his hands towards his face, marvelling at the bloodstains patterning them like snail tracks when he felt so…_fine_. A low groan escaped him as he remembered…

_The Turks flowed away before him like an impassable sea, far too many to fight, and he felt a strange resignation settle on his heart as he drew his sword. "The price of freedom is high," he heard himself saying softly. If he did this now, the odds remained that he would die, despite his mako-enhanced strength and reflexes. But Cloud, his brother in all but blood, still had a chance. Just a ghost of a chance, to be sure, but a chance all the same. "Defend your dreams," he whispered, an echo of words spoken long ago. "And your honour-as SOLDIER__. __Come and get it!" And he charged as they did, swinging the sword around his head and lunging deep into their ranks-_

And yet here he was. He remembered injuries, so severe he had always known there was no hope for him. He remembered giving Cloud, miraculously awake and amazingly alive, his sword, and drifting away. He remembered thinking that he had seen Angeal…falling, _flying_ away into the light…surely he had died.

But now here he was, alive.

He sat up gingerly, still unable to fully believe that those phantom wounds could just be _healed_. There was no pain, only the very faintest of discomforts. He glanced down at himself and parted the torn, bloodstained fabric of his jacket and shirt, and his eyes widened in amazement. Thin red scars, as if of injuries many weeks healed, and shimmering ever so faintly at the edges the green glow of mako.

How was it possible? There could not be much mako in his system now. To be sure, during his training for SOLDIER he had been given enough of it to permanently enhance his fighting ability, but to heal someone it had to be fresh and pure. Not over a year old. And he had never even been given as much of it in the lab as Cloud had. Hojo had realised early on that something in Cloud's DNA, or blood, or whatever-Zack wasn't about to dwell on that kind of jargon in any situation-made him far more receptive to the mako treatments than Zack, and it had had some pretty bizarre effects as well, at times. Zack had spent the past few months almost in storage, in case a lesser test subject might be required, while Hojo concentrated on torturing Cloud before his very eyes. Little wonder that the kid had spent a year almost comatose after that.

But the fact remained that the mako in Zack's own system could quite simply not have healed him like this. Which left only one alternative-Cloud. The insanity of the idea made Zack instinctively shake it off-but then he forced himself to go back and take another look. What other explanation could there be? And he had seen enough crazy things happen to the kid under the mako before. Was it really so impossible?

Well, the first step was obvious. He was going to have to find Cloud…not that it looked set up to be too difficult. Clearly still too weak and sick to think about such matters, his friend had not bothered to conceal his trail, and Zack could easily see the tracks in the mud made by someone fairly small walking slowly and apparently with difficulty, dragging something heavy, something like a sword. Excellent, he thought in satisfaction. Thank you, Spiky.

Determinedly he did not allow himself to dwell on the past or the far future. He had a feeling that going there could seriously damage him right now-the horror behind and the uncertainty and angst ahead would only distract him from the currently vital business of staying alive. For now he had to find Cloud, and when he had done that they could move from there.

He just got up as if it had never been easier, as if even lifting his hand had never been such agony, stretched and did his best to straighten his tattered clothing, and set out following Cloud's shaky trail through the mud. It seemed unreal, bizarre, to be so calmly and normally starting a walk, with no further ado, but it was really what he was doing, and it was really him who was doing it. The realisation was dizzying. He was _alive_.

He smiled.

**Well there it is, hope you like it so far! I'm not sure when I'll be able to post again since I'm writing other stories for other fandoms too, but I'll try to make it fairly soon. Also you may think both of them are a bit too angsty, not really that military or anything, but I really think this is how they would be feeling in their situations, they're not just soldiers, they're very complex, very damaged and very human people first of all. Had to just explain that…**

**Anyway, I'd really like it if you'd leave me a review and let me know what you think-I really appreciate constructive criticism, I'm not just saying that! **


	2. Chapter 2

I forgot to say this before-I DO NOT OWN FINAL FANTASY OR ANYTHING YOU RECOGNISE FROM THE GAME.

Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed this story and encouraged me to continue it-I know it's taken a while, but I finally have the next chapter done! I wanted to prove I could since next week I'll be in Italy on holiday and I wanted to have this story really started before I left… I hope you like it…

Chapter 2:

There was too much world.

It was all too big, too far, too terrifying. Cloud's last clear memories were of cramped cells and laboratories, small rooms and low ceilings. Ropes binding. He had been out of there for some time now, but this was the first time he had seen the sky since he could remember, and what he did see struck a nameless panic through his heart. There was just too much of it, and it was so wild and so untethered-he was not used to it and he did not want to be alone to face it.

But he had no choice.

The sky was stained purple-grey with twilight now, and he could see his shadow stretching long and dark as a giant's before him across the plains. Looking ahead there was only a wild wasteland of rocks and desert and loneliness-empty. In his path a craggy chasm of standing stones and spurs of rock like broken teeth had opened, and he was making his cautious way down a little dry scree-slope, thinking that he would feel safer at the bottom, where he would be less exposed. He still dragged Zack's sword behind him; he had been holding onto it for so long now he felt that his hands were fused to the hilt and would never come off. He did not think he would mind mind-the sword was the only security, the only thing of Zack he had…

He knew that he should think about finding food, water, shelter. But he was exhausted and he felt so sick and dizzy even the thought of eating made him want to retch. Taking care of himself could wait till tomorrow-for now he just needed to sleep. He continued on his weaving, unsteady path between the rock spurs until he found what he was looking for; a small alcove like a tiny cave, secluded and dark and safe, and crawled into it, pulling his knees up to his chest for warmth, curling into a small ball with one hand still clutching the hilt of the sword. Darkness swooped on beyond the cave, like the wings of some huge bird, doom-laden and freezing, and Cloud watched through numb, raw eyes.

_Last night Zack died for me_…

Pain burst through his heart and suddenly he was crying, great racking sobs of utter, devastating grief, each one so intense he was vaguely surprised it did not tear his soul straight from his body. He could not believe suddenly that Zack could be gone, that this person he loved more than anyone else, who had given everything to keep him alive, could truly be lying there on the cliff dead and destroyed when it should be Cloud gone from the world forever, Cloud who had nothing to live for…he could not believe that the sword he clutched so tightly it bruised his hand was Zack's, that Zack could call him his legacy.

_I am no legacy. I'm just a failure who can't even keep himself alive, let alone anybody else's memory…Zack deserves more than me to prove he existed_.

Crying uncontrollably, his sobs mingling with the heavy shudders of cold that passed through his body, Cloud drifted slowly and painfully into sleep. Around him the abyss whistled and sung with the wind cutting through its rocks and ledges, knifing around corners and hissing through tiny tunnels-the night was immense and impassionate, caring nothing for the lost, broken young warrior curled alone and terrified hidden deep down within its world. Too much world, as Cloud had thought, for one person to face alone. Too much.

_ Zack's face shimmered from beyond a haze of mako and nightmare-Cloud watched him as he would an angel, anyone free. He could not be sure if the green light was tormenting his body or Zack's, could not be sure of anything, only that they were separated by the poisonous chemical and Zack was staring at him though eyes cold as ice, or death._

_ "Zack," Cloud said, his voice echoing oddly. "I thought we got out of here. Are we still in the lab?"_

_ Zack lifted his head and there was something almost like triumph burning in his fiery eyes. "Oh, we got out," he said quietly, with an intense and terrifying contempt. "I got you out and I carried you to safety, and I died for you. I gave you everything, Cloud. And what was it all for? What was the point?"_

_ "You shouldn't have done it," Cloud whispered, understanding, dropping his gaze, unable to meet Zack's dead eyes. "I know. I didn't deserve it."_

_ "No," Zack agreed cruelly. "You didn't. And you know what else, Cloud Strife? You know what's the funniest thing of all?"_

_ Cloud did not want to know, but in his dream he had no choice. His eyes were dragged back up to Zack's and he heard clearly the words which tore him apart-"I was always free from here, ever since we escaped. But you, Cloud, you'll never be free. You're gonna be here your whole life, all alone, and you're gonna die here. After everything, you never really escaped, did you?"_

_ And Zack's face beyond the mako was morphing into another, an old and cruel face, the face of Cloud's nightmares, Hojo's face with that sadistic scientific interest and that genteel, fervent voice, and Cloud was screaming now and could not stop, could not keep from banging his body off the walls of the glass container, over and over again, in desperation as he yelled Zack's name hopelessly, frantically-_

He jerked awake, his scream dying off mid-breath, gasping and choking and crying. The night pulsed in on him, black and empty and clawing for his sanity like an invisible, enraged demon. Cloud fought free of the dream and came surging to his feet, stumbling outside the cave and leaning against the rock wall in the cold night air, dragging in deep, lung-cracking breaths. His head was spinning, he felt nauseous and dizzy and scared. Zack-Zack-would he really hate me? Would he…

He fell to his knees, retching emptily onto the ground. Suddenly he could not breathe. Where am I? he thought wildly. Where am I-how'd I get here? Zack, where's Zack? Where is he? Why'd he leave me?

Zack's dead. Dead for you…

He clutched his head in his hands, pulling viciously at his spiky fair hair at his scalp, eyes clenched shut as he fought to hold on to reality. Zack's dead and you have to live for him. You have to live…somehow…

"Zack," he whispered hopelessly. "Zack, I'm so, so sorry…"

…

Zack was still going strong-as soon as he had been up and moving the aches and pains thronging his body had seemed to lift away and leave him feeling…amazingly well, and _fine_. He did not understand how such a thing could be possible, even knowing mako as he did…

And _could_ Cloud somehow have healed him? Was it possible?

But then a lot of things in their lives the past few years had not been possible, or sane, or right-and they had fought through it all and were still standing, against all odds.

Zack did not like being unarmed. Once it would not have mattered, but since their time in the lab he had grown too used to defending himself and Cloud, and walking about without a weapon of any kind just seemed immensely reckless, immensely stupid…although he knew countless people in the world lived their lives that way. Something had changed in Zack irrevocably-once not so long ago he had been so cocky, careless, cheerful, trusting. But the

last five years had served to show him something new about humanity, and he could no longer trust in his own kind as he had. He could no longer believe in the good within all people.

In some way, Cloud had never had to make that distinction. Oh, the kid had never been a sceptic or anything like that-it was just that, because of the way he had grown up, essentially alone, always shy and self-effacing, often bullied, and facing rejection from SOLDIER as he had, he had cultivated a kind of protective shield about him from the start, a wariness, a reluctance to trust; if he and Zack had not been thrown together in times of such duress, it would have been almost impossible for him to cement any friendship with Cloud at all. It was just the way he was. Zack might have seen more action, more bloodshed and warfare, but Cloud had experienced first hand what it was like to be a victim rather than a player in any of those crises.

It had not prepared him. It had not prepared either of them. But Cloud had not been as shocked by Hojo's potential for the acts of such inhumanity and evil he had inflicted upon them as Zack had. Maybe he had suffered more, but he had never believed that all human beings had that innate goodness in them Zack had always seen, and his own _convictions_ had not been so challenged.

In any case, Zack had no choice about going unarmed. Cloud had his sword, and he was tracking Cloud, so it would not be long now. His friend's trail was easy to follow, though in places Zack's brow furrowed in concern-evident scuff marks or disturbances of the dirt indicated clearly where Cloud had stumbled and fallen; he was weak, and failing, and judging from his tracks alone, it looked as if by himself he would not last much longer. Odd how the thought of Cloud actually mobile was so strange-Zack had grown accustomed, reluctantly, to the idea that the kid might never recover from the mako poisoning, forever be dependent on him for everything. It had been so long now that taking care of Cloud had become Zack's entire life-he no longer knew what else there was to have come back for.

_Aerith_…

He pushed her image away. His first priority was to find Cloud.

He faced the setting sun and smiled as he shoved his overlong dark hair out of his eyes and pressed forwards-he relished the vibrant tug in his muscles, the life singing through his once-destroyed body. It felt good to be alive.

…

Cloud had finally fallen into an uneasy sleep somewhere around dawn, and did not hear the approach of the caravans. He lay very still, curled around Zack's sword, face hidden behind his spiky blond hair, tucked into the alcove and seeming small as a child in his vulnerability, so utterly exhausted that neither the clanking rumble of old, rusty engines nor the hoarse shouting of the caravans' occupants when they began to make camp was enough to rouse him.

"Why d'you want to sleep through the day anyways?"

"'Cause we drove all night to get away from the scene, you-"

"You don't think they'll find us here?"

"Why would they? Frickin' middle of nowhere…"

A tentative ray of sunlight found its way into Cloud's corner and slanted across his face-his eyes opened in surprise, blinking dazedly as he realised he was no longer alone. He raised his aching body into a sitting position, hand tightening on the hilt of Zack's sword, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"You selfish ****, that was the last beer…"

"One hell of a storm, that…"

"Good cover, though…" Men groaning, laughing. The sound of crackling fires, splashing water. Cloud did not move, wondering what to do. From this vantage point he could not see them, could not tell exactly how far away they were from his hiding place. If he tried to run they might spot him, and then he would be in trouble-he could not kid himself that he was in any condition to fight.

But he could not remain here. They sounded as if they were settling in for a long stay.

Cloud grabbed the edge of the rock wall and carefully poked his head around the outside of the alcove. So far, so good-he could not see them. He inched a little further out and his heart leaped into his mouth; they were there, barely metres from his hiding place, about ten of them grouped around a small campfire, the two heavy, rusty caravans parked a short distance away. Forcing himself to breathe quietly, Cloud considered them-they were all bigger than he was, and many of them bore guns and knives. They had a rough air about them-clearly they were not the kind of gang to be taken lightly. What was more, judging from the snippets of their conversation he could hear, they were running from something and sounded like some kind of criminals. Cloud knew that with all the mako in his system his strength and speed and reflexes were going to be superior to those of other humans-that is, they _would_ be if he was not still disabled by his own reactions to the stuff. He was seriously weakened from his long bout of mako poisoning, he was tired and confused and he had not eaten or drunk anything since he could remember.

Maybe he was superhuman. But he was sick as well, and he could not fight them all off like this.

_Zack could_ _have_.

He pushed the thought and the accompanying twinge of pain away. _You're not Zack. Suck it up_.

He was Cloud, and he was going to have to get out of this _his_ way.

He inched his way out of the cave, holding the sword high so that it did not scrape along the ground and wishing vainly that he had some kind of scabbard for it. Pressing close to the rock wall he crept away from the caravans, sucking in his chest and trying to believe himself invisible: if he could just get round the next corner he would be safe-he tripped, horribly, as a wave of unexpected dizziness washed over him, stumbled. A large stone came wrenching out of the ground and clattered a couple of feet out across the gully floor, clanging and echoing with each roll as if the earth was no more solid than crumpled paper or brittle glass. Cloud froze stiff where he stood.

The men turned, called to each other, got to their feet. Cloud tried to move, to run, but fell again over another stone and went crashing to the ground, cursing, panicking now. By the time he had regained his feet they were on him and he felt strong hands grab his shoulders, yanking him backwards; he struggled desperately but could not get free. Abruptly he remembered the sword and swung it wildly. It did not connect with anything, but the men leaped back out of its range, leaving Cloud standing facing them, trembling, determinedly hopeless with the sword almost as tall as he was clasped so tightly in his two hands his knuckles were white. They pressed in on him, sneering, sniggering, their hot, mean eyes and gleaming skinheads morphing them, in Cloud's nightmare perception, into demons of the abyss.

"What have we here, then?" one of them demanded, pushing to the front. He was over six feet tall and wore a leather jacket and boots with spurs-he must have weighed at least twice as much as Cloud did. "Any of you think this kid can actually use that stick?" A chorus of raucous dissent.

"I mean you no harm," Cloud said a little shakily. "I'll go and leave you, I swear. I don't-"

"Yes, but you've seen us now, little boy," the man said again, drawing closer, folding his arms aggressively over his chest. "And we can't really take that kind of risk in our position, can we now lads?"

"I'm warning you," Cloud said, a note of desperation entering his voice. "If I have to fight you I will."

_And that'll be a joke, won't it_…

"Now that I'd like to see," the man told him scornfully, and faster than a striking snake leapt, knife flying, for Cloud's throat. Cloud brought up the sword, too late, twisted aside-he fell with his attacker on top of him, losing his grip on the sword. He yelled in panic, struggling desperately, jamming the knife's descent with his wrist. The man's face contorted in a sneer as he shoved down, bending Cloud's wrist back, grinding him into the dust.

And then something happened that no-one could have foreseen.

Cloud saw the first flash of green light and heard the man's howl of sudden agony, but did not process what had happened. The man scooted violently backwards, shoving himself away from Cloud clasping his knife arm to his chest, and when Cloud finally staggered to his feet and looked, he saw the imprint of his own hand, seared deep and black into his attacker's wrist. He stared, bewildered and amazed-then looked down at his own hands. He gasped.

They were glowing vividly green-a bright medicinal poison emerald. Mako green.

Okay, I'm not completely happy with this chapter, it doesn't seem particularly polished and I didn't have much time to edit it as much as I usually would or anything. But like I said, I really wanted to get it out before I left on holiday so…here it is and I hope it's not too bad! Zack and Cloud are going to meet up next chapter I think…and Cloud is going to have a lot of kickass moment later in the story, don't worry-I just thought that at this stage he was still going to be very weak and sick from the mako. Just to explain why he's not especially heroic here…please review!


	3. Chapter 3

**All right-I have not given up on this story and I am so sorry it's taken me so shamefully long to get this chapter posted. I've had exams at school, so loads to do, and some personal problems as well to deal with, but basically I'm really sorry I've made you wait so long, I don't have a good enough excuse! Anyway, here it is, at last, and I just pray it was worth the wait!**

Chapter 3:

Cloud stumbled back in bewildered panic, staring down at his hands, glowing so intensely and eerily the colour of his nightmares. His gaze flashed up to the faces of his attackers and he saw his own terror reflected there; his breath was coming too fast, utter blazing panic shooting through him. What was happening? What was this? As if a flash of green fire had come out of him, had seared the imprint of his hand into the other man's skin-what did it mean? How was it _possible_?

"What are you?" hissed the injured man. "Some kind of demon?" Cloud could only stare back, at a complete loss for words. Demon? Maybe he was. Who knew what Hojo had done to him, who knew what he had become-he shook his head in speechless panic, clenching his hands desperately, trying to extinguish the flaring green light. Use it! the voice in his head that sounded like Zack ordered frantically. Act like you know what you're doing! Scare them off! But he could not, he was too afraid, too broken, too confused-too _weak_. I'm sorry, he told Zack silently. I'm sorry-I can't-you chose the wrong legacy, Zack. The wrong person…

"He's no demon," another man snarled. "He's just a kid, Dow, and he's seen us!"

Dow, the injured one, stood there clasping his burned arm, appraising Cloud with a mixture of wariness and slowly growing scorn. Cloud fought to breathe, fought to stand upright. To speak.

"Get…get away from me!" he said shakily. "I'll…I'll kill you-" His voice was cracked and unconvincing, he sounded like a panicked child. Dow and his companions evidently thought so too. Dow lifted his uninjured hand to signal to his men, and a snarl curved his lips.

"Kill him," he said simply.

Cloud lunged for Zack's sword, lying in the dust, snatching it up and whirling round to face them-his speed and strength might have been mako-enhanced but his body was weak and trembling, and even that movement made him dizzy. He swung the sword at the first of his attackers, and the great blade cleaved into the man' chest-he fell back, gurgling blood, but the others were still coming on and Cloud could not fight them all-the whole world became a nightmare of flashing bodies all around, of blood and pain and movement, and he felt his hands torn from the hilt of the sword, saw again that flash of green but this time it deterred no-one-he was flung to the ground so hard he was stunned, felt someone straddle his chest and the blows strike his face again and again, pain exploding until all he could see was blood and the bleared broken pieces of the sky. He felt knives stabbing into his hands, his sides, their fists and feet knocking him to fragments-he lashed out and mako green light flared but no-one screamed, no-one cared. He could not believe that it was going to end like this, that after everything he was going to die at the hands of a band of thugs, that Zack's sacrifice would be squandered for this-

Zack…

In that instant Cloud could not tell who he was, could not distinguish himself from his memories of his best friend, his brother. All he knew was that somehow he was on his feet again and shattering through them all, fighting with all the speed and skill of a SOLDIER, his hands punching into their faces, green swathes of light cutting out and burning, _burning_. Fire blazing from his hands like laser. He was aware of shouts of pain, his own desperate gasping for breath, a chaos of movement and violence, rushes of colour and blurring faces under the mako fire spiking through everything. At some point he somehow managed to grasp Zack's sword again and then it all span faster, bloodier, and he was slaughtering them with a sudden pure efficiency, as if somebody else fought through him, obliterating his own confused, weakened, desperate exterior. And then somehow he was alone, and all was still and quiet, and he lowered the sword, standing motionless and trembling with exertion in the middle of a field of corpses. He looked around through raw, blood-smeared eyes, and he felt nothing but a kind of empty brokenness. Suddenly there was nothing of Zack left-suddenly he was just Cloud once more, and as vulnerable to the wild winds of fate and reality and life as ever.

And a final figure came running up from the shadows of the rocks, and that was all it took. Cloud recognised his face and his mind simply shut down-pain and blood loss and exhaustion mingled with pure heart-stopping shock to overcome him, and he crumpled down in the middle of the bloody battlefield and saw his world fade to black.

…

Zack had seen the light from afar, the swinging curves of green radiance from the stony ridges of the quarry, but he had never imagined that it could be anything to do with Cloud. How could it have been? And yet his old instinct of curiosity had taken him and he had broken into a run, reaching the quarry in minutes. From the top of the cliff he had seen it all-seen the small, slight, spiky-haired figure swinging among the thugs dealing death in all directions, seen the sword in one hand with which he smashed bodies apart-seen from the other hand the explosions of mako green light. Shock had paralysed him for an instant and then he had started scrambling down the nearest scree slope to the bottom of the quarry, and by the time he arrived it was all over, the panting, trembling figure of his best friend standing there alone surrounded by corpses.

Zack ran forwards-Cloud turned towards him, covered in blood, skin seared by numerous injuries, face bruised and torn, his hands still glowing faintly green. Zack saw the shock register in his eyes, felt the surge of relief and amazement and joy and fear inside himself, and then the slight form before him just collapsed to the bloody earth, and it was all replaced by concern. Zack ran forwards, too late to catch his friend as he fell, dropping to his knees beside the curled and broken body of his lost friend.

"Cloud! Hey, Cloud-can you hear me?" He scanned Cloud's body swiftly, taking in the injuries and wounds, then looked up to examine the battlefield-nine corpses littered the bottom of the quarry. He shook his head in disbelief-having read the extent of Cloud's weakness from the uneven, broken trail he could never have believed that anyone could have gone on to achieve something like this.

And that green light-what _was_ it?

Zack shoved the question from his mind. The main thing now was to get them both to safety and deal with Cloud's injuries, and _then_ they could deal with that kind of difficulty. He shook his friend gently, but Cloud did not respond-his body and mind seemed to have completely shut down, and Zack did not really blame them for it. He had carried Cloud so long; it was as if nothing had changed. He dared not sling his friend over his shoulder for fear of aggravating his wounds, so he lifted him in his arms, cradling him like a child, and sheathing the sword over his back in the old manner, he moved away from the battlefield to find somewhere far enough away to count as shelter.

…

Cloud regained consciousness slowly, first coming into awareness of the hard rock surface beneath him, the warmth of some soft fabric laid over him. Cold air touched his face, and with it the smell of burning-he heard the crackling of a small fire. Where was he? He struggled to open his eyes but it was like trying to lift lead weights-he felt weak and tired as a newborn. _What had happened_?

The fight. That light. And then-Zack-

He shot bolt upright, eyes snapping open, flashing wildly around to fix on the figure who sat across the little cavern against the backdrop of the night sky, carefully cleaning the blood from his massive sword. This figure started, then smiled.

"Good to see you awake, Spiky."

Cloud flung up his arms to shield his eyes, huddling back into the cave wall. "_No_," he moaned. "No no no, I'm going crazy…no…" This could not be true, could not be-his mind had snapped, then, that explained everything, and _now_ what was he going to do? He heard his illusion shuffle across the cavern and grip his shoulders, anchoring him, but Cloud flinched away, unable to believe it, unable to bear it.

"You're dead," he mumbled desperately. "You're dead, you're not here, you're _not here_…"

"Hey! Cloud, look at me! Cloud!" It was Zack's voice, Zack's presence, Zack's face. It hurt so horrifically to know that it was not really Zack. His very mind was mocking him, torturing him. He shook his head wildly, not daring to look.

"Spiky, it's me, it's okay! I'm not dead, I'm right here, okay? I'm here…"

"I'm going crazy," Cloud whispered, still covering his eyes, hands pressed so closely to his face it hurt, but he could not move them to relieve it. "This _isn't happening_…"

"You're not crazy," Zack said quietly. "I swear. Just look at me, okay? I _promise_ it's me. It's okay, Spike."

No! Cloud's mind insisted. This is mad, this is crazy-don't look. If you just don't look maybe it'll be okay…but the trust that instinctively flowered within him at the sound of that voice, the desperate _need_ to find Zack miraculously alive again, proved stronger than his doubts. He removed his hands from his eyes, blinking in the firelight as he looked up into that face he knew better than his own. Zack looked concerned, uncertain, but relieved, and he smiled.

"It's really me, Spike," he said gently. Cloud just stared.

"But…how?" he whispered at last. "You…you _died_, Zack, I…I _saw_ you…you were so badly hurt, you couldn't've…"

"I don't understand either," Zack admitted. "But…uh…here I am!" He would not yet reveal to Cloud his own suspicions about the mako's long-term effects on his friend-something he was becoming more and more interested in, having seen him fight with that bright green light. Right now Cloud looked too spooked and fragile to take anything else in.

"But this is impossible," Cloud said in a dazed tone of voice. "How…how'd you-"

"How'd I find you? I followed your trail, Spike. Finally found you just in time to miss a good fight, and then you went and passed out on me again, so I brought you here."

"Uh-thanks?" Cloud offered in bewilderment. Zack grinned.

"Not like I'm not used to it. I gotta say, it feels good to be having an actual conversation with you again…" He trailed off, suddenly suspecting the reason for Cloud's expression of confusion. "You do…you do _know_ what happened, don't you?" he said apprehensively.

Cloud nodded, barely perceptively. "Hojo," he whispered, his voice taking on the hushed dread of the horror story. "And then-you…you got us out, you carried me, Zack, you…I was awake, sometimes."

"Awake?"

"Sometimes I knew you were there, I knew what you were doing, only I couldn't move, couldn't speak…" His voice caught and he took a deep breath. "It was like being trapped inside my own body…it _hurt_, Zack, really bad, and I couldn't tell what was nightmare and what was real…sometimes I couldn't wake up. For a long time, I think. And then I knew you were there. You…" He looked down, shy suddenly. "You gave up everything for me."

"It wasn't just me," Zack said quietly, intently. "You were all I had left, Cloud. If you hadn't been there in the lab I'd have killed myself, or given in, long ago, or become something…else. I couldn't have made it without you. And there were so many times when if I hadn't had to look after you out there I'd have just jumped off a cliff-you were all I had to _fight_ for, Spike."

"But I know what you did for me," Cloud said fiercely. "And I can never tell you how-"

"Don't thank me," Zack said. "It's over and all we can do is try to forget it. Okay? We have to think of the future." Both of them knew it would be far easier said than done, that both were haunted by their memories as by malevolent ghosts that would never stop tormenting them, but the only way was forwards now, towards anything but that.

Cloud tried to smile his agreement, tried hard. He was too confused and too hurt right then to be able to believe in any kind of future, but just being with Zack again seemed to fill him with strength. "Okay," he said softly. Zack grinned that old flashing grin.

"Great. Well, right now you need to sleep, you were hurt pretty bad."

Cloud shook his head. "I don't want to sleep."

Zack looked at him intently, clearly reading him like an open book. "I'm not going anywhere, Spike. I'll be right here when you wake up."

Cloud met his eyes with a kind of desperate innocence. "You swear?"

"I swear."

…

Zack leaned back against the cave wall as Cloud finally slipped back into unconsciousness. He did not feel in the least tired, though it must have been nearing midnight and he had not closed his eyes the previous night. He felt…full of energy, strong and ready and buoyed up by confidence, physically. Inside he was a mess of conflict add turmoil. For all his bravado before Cloud he was terrified at the thought of the future-where could they go, and what could they do? It was not, after all, so easy to start a new life, to base a whole world on a nightmare that had shattered all they had ever known.

His gaze strayed to his friend's still, bruised face, his tight-clenched eyes, as he lay along the back of the cave under a cloak Zack had taken from one of the dead men, curled up like a child against the threat and fear of his universe, spikes of fair hair falling jaggedly into his face. Even asleep Cloud looked more alive and more real than he had for months, and Zack felt a burning relief at the knowledge. Oh, for sure Cloud was going to be weakened, traumatised-there could be any number of after-effects to a torture like that he had suffered. It was going to be a long, hard road to recovery and it was not over yet. But Zack had almost given up hope that Cloud would ever be back to normal, ever wake from his mako-poisoned semi-coma, and just seeing his eyes open and hearing his voice meant a miracle.

A miracle that they could surely use to build their lives on. He, Zack, was alive, and Cloud was recovering at last, both of which had seemed impossible only days ago, and there was a way forward.

He frowned as he looked at his friend. Cloud's face looked panicked, unhappy, and as Zack watched he turned his head restlessly to the side, fists clenching. He was dreaming. Moments later he was struggling in his sleep, lashing out as if fighting torture, and Zack heard him yell as if in pain, or driving terror. He crossed the cave, worried, to try and wake Cloud, and right then he saw it again-that flash of green about his hands. Fear pulsed inside Zack-the mako had done _something_ to Cloud, something unexplainable, something bizarre that neither of them could have expected.

"Cloud! Wake up!"

_Cloud was lying pinned to the ground and an entire army of twisted black demons was crowding in on him, laughing their icy cackles and trailing their searing hands up and down his face. One drew to the forefront and he knew it, suddenly, that pinched malicious face, the half-moon glasses and tufty dark hair-Hojo. "An interesting reaction," he was saying dispassionately. "I must try increasing the dosage." And then Cloud flung up his hands in a desperate, final defence and wild emerald light was erupting all around-he saw it burn through the faces of his assailants, and he felt it sear right through him, shattering him, burning him into the earth, and he screamed as the agony struck through him-_

Hands on his shoulders, someone shaking him. A voice yelling his name. He shot up, blind and gasping and panicked, lashing out. He heard a muffled curse.

"Dammit Spiky-"

"Zack?" he gasped. He forced his eyes open, still trapped in the nightmare, glancing around frantically as the shadows lunged forwards-his eyes fell on Zack's face and he relaxed, sank back, trembling.

"One hell of a nightmare," Zack commented. Cloud nodded, hunching deeper into the cloak he had been covered with-Zack had taken it from one of the men he had killed. "Sorry."

"You've got nothing to be sorry about," Zack pointed out. He was just relieved that the bizarre green light was gone-he was going to have to talk to Cloud about that some time soon, but right now he didn't think either of them could face it. "Want to tell me about it?"

Cloud shook his head. "Just…everything," he muttered. There was a silence-for a while Zack thought Cloud had fallen asleep again, but then after a few minutes he spoke:

"Zack," he said. "Before today, I'd never killed anyone." And then he closed his eyes and sank back into the world of his nightmares.

**I hope you liked this chapter and I'll try to post the next one pretty soon, again I apologise for the shameful delay for this one. Please let me know what you thought!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

"So…Midgar?" Cloud said tentatively, a full day later. He had pushed to leave the cave sooner but Zack had insisted that he needed time to heal and regain his strength-Cloud could have told him that a day one way or the other would not make much difference, but he was not exactly eager to strike out into the unknown future. He suspected that Zack felt similarly. The difference was of course that Zack was brave enough to overcome that fear, while he, Cloud, had he been alone, could not be sure that he would be.

Zack inspected him narrowly. "Are you sure you're strong enough to walk far?" he asked. Cloud nodded firmly. "_Yes_." He had spent a year as weak and as vulnerable as possible: now it was time to show Zack that he was not completely useless, that he too could stand up to the world. Quite honestly he seriously doubted his ability to do so, but it was something to fight for, at least.

"Well-okay, then, but we'll take it slow, all right?"

Together they moved out of the refuge of their cave into the sunlight, Zack keeping a watchful eye on his younger friend, far from convinced that he was strong enough for a journey like this. Cloud looked very white, supernaturally-blue eyes almost glowing in his gaunt face, and he seemed shaky, clearly caused some pain by the injuries still unhealed all over his body, but he was upright and walking, and even that seemed miraculous to Zack right now. Cloud caught him watching and made an effort to smile.

"I'm _okay_, Zack."

"Yeah…sure…" He decided to change the subject. "I think we should head North as long as we can today and we should reach Midgar in a week or so. Maybe we can hitch a lift or something along the way."

"We're that close?" Cloud said in surprise. Zack shrugged.

"We came a long way this past year."

Cloud ducked his head in embarrassment. He had been trying hard not to dwell on those months of such complete dependency.

…..

The weather had turned cold and a chill wind blew as they struck out across the plains. Zack kept the pace fairly slow, seeing that Cloud still suffered some pain and weariness from his injuries, but not quite slow enough for his friend to notice and object. He remembered from their days in the lab how driven he could be-how obstinate almost to the point of being masochistic. They marched in silence for a long time, easy with each other as if they had never done anything else. Cloud had always been quiet, Zack remembered, and he himself was wrapped up in thoughts and fears of the future; during their years of torture they had come to know each other so well that they almost did not have to speak to communicate.

Towards midday, however, Cloud became aware of a new difficulty. It began as a throbbing headache, which he managed to ignore for the most part, but as they went on the pain intensified until he could scarcely see. When he blinked the world took on a bizarrely green hue, the sky reflecting wrong-coloured light, the earth glimmering as if studded with glass and jewels. His hands grew sweaty and he saw them trembling when he looked down. He fought to ignore such sensations, to quell his fear at them by convincing himself that they were just side-effects of his injuries and weakness-it worked for a while, but it could not forever.

At last Zack turned to him, to ask if he wanted to stop and rest for a while, and was immediately shocked by his friend's condition. Cloud had been a little pale and wan that morning, but now he looked fevered, panicky, head bowed as if against a strong wind, clutching the stolen cloak about him as if in desperate need of protection, his face glistening with sweat and white as a sheet. He stopped dead.

"Hey, Spiky, you doing okay?"

Cloud looked up in faint, almost delirious desperation. "Yeah. I'm fine. Why d'you stop?" His eyes were glowing brighter than ever; it unnerved Zack. It was like looking into a blue hell, or vortex.

"I think we should rest a while," he said uneasily. "You look…"

"Huh? No. I'm fine. Just fine. We should carry on. I'm not tired…" The words tumbled out too fast, too garbled, almost slurred. Cloud seemed to be swaying on his feet and, alarmed, Zack stepped forward to steady him. Confused and feeling the strength draining out of him with every passing second, Cloud sidestepped him and flung out an arm to ward him off: there was a burst of green and a jet of emerald light like a laser beam zipped past Zack to blaze into the ground beside him. Cloud yelled in shock and stumbled back, only to see the green light flare brighter-Zack sprang forwards, cannoning into him and pushing him down onto the ground.

"Cloud! Take it easy!" he cried. Cloud's panicked eyes stared back at him-he sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. The light dimmed, then faded-he sagged back, breathing hard, shivering. Zack scrambled backwards to sit beside him, arms wrapped loosely around his knees.

"What's going on, Cloud?" he asked, quietly and seriously. Cloud could only shake his head in terror and bewilderment.

"I don't know," he whispered. "I don't know."

…..

They did not find much shelter that night, having to make do with a small copse of bushes where they set out their few possessions behind in rough semblance of a camp. Cloud was still traumatised and panicky after his sudden loss of control and the explosions of green light-it had happened twice now, and he was beginning to be really afraid of whatever was going on with him, with his body and mind, and why. He and Zack shared the last of the small amount of food they had stolen from the criminals Cloud had killed, and agreed that Zack would keep watch first. Cloud, exhausted, rolled himself in his cloak for warmth and closed his eyes to try and sleep: his body buzzed with the tensions of the day, however, and he found that sleep would not come.

"Hey, Zack," he said after a while. "Who was that girl you talked about, in the lab, and other times? When we get back to Midgar we can go find her."

A pause. "I hope so," Zack's voice echoed back.

"What was her name again?"

Zack, sitting hugging his knees, smiled with the instinct of joy even her mention aroused in him. "Aerith," he said softly. "Yeah, I hope we can find her."

Cloud waited, but his friend said no more. He could feel Zack smiling, though, feel his contentment, temporary though it might be, and it made the world seem okay. That was the thing people remembered about Zack-his smile, and his attitude that the world was a good place, that there was always hope. Cloud had missed it, these past few days.

"And what about you, Spiky?" Zack said suddenly, the old cockiness back in his tone. "There no-one you're dreaming of?"

Cloud was glad he was still lying down facing away from Zack, for he knew he must have flushed red. He made a non-committal mumble.

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that?" Zack said, the sound of suppressed laughter plain in his tone. Cloud tried not to think about Tifa, that girl he and Zack had met during that so-long ago mission to Nibelheim, the girl he had been injured trying to protect and who had half-carried him to safety afterwards. But he had thought about her since, dreamed about her…back in his childhood, she had been the one he watched, the one he had always wanted to talk to, to be friends with, later, to prove himself for. Always her.

But it seemed so bizarre to think about any kind of future for the two of them now. She probably didn't even remember he existed.

Fortunately, Zack seemed to have decided to let it go, maybe pre-occupied with thinking about Aerith. Cloud, relieved, found that those few words when they had pretended that everything was going to be all right, had relaxed something deep inside him, and suddenly it was easy to drop off into darkness, his last thought an image of Tifa, smiling as if she liked the idea that he might be coming back to her. He was asleep within moments: Zack sat leaning against a tree stump, head tipped back and staring up into the stars.

Maybe it would be possible to see Aerith again, in Midgar or later. Her memory filled him like the scent of flowers, intoxicating, unbelievably beautiful. He smiled. But quickly the fears of the present overcame him once more.

He was out of his depth here, far out of his depth. Something was happening to Cloud, something unexplainable, and he was too afraid and too confused to confront it directly. But if he was honest with himself, he had been out of his depth for a long time. It was not usual to have attained such a high position in SOLDIER at as young an age as he had, though not unheard-of, and for a very long time now he had been fighting enemies he could no longer fully hate, people like Angeal…things had not been simple for a long time now. And after Nibelheim, and everything that had happened to himself and Cloud in the lab, and then later, that endless desperate escape, and dying…he felt that he did not know himself any more. He wanted everything to be simple again: to know what was going on, and what he had to do and who he had to fight, and what was right and what was wrong. He had been happy in his life, before. Now he just no longer understood anything.

His gaze fell on the small, curled figure beside him, Cloud's face set in a frown, perhaps in defiance of his nightmares, his spiky blond hair falling into his eyes. This person, this brother, this comrade in arms, he was worth fighting for, worth dying for-had Zack not already proved that? He could be sure of that, if nothing else: the future was full of uncertainty and fear, but Cloud was still here and that meant that he had done something right.

He expected nightmares. Cloud had gone through absolute hell-trauma and nightmares were only to be expected. He was concerned, but not unduly panicked, when he noticed his friend scrunching up his face, head tossing from side to side in fear as the dreams took hold. He sighed-it was definitely going to take time for either of them to get over this-and moved across their little camp to try and wake Cloud.

"No…no…please…" his friend was mumbling. "Don't…I can't…can't…"

"Hey, Cloud," Zack called softly. "Cloud, it's okay…" He laid a reassuring hand on Cloud's shoulder, and Cloud jerked away as violently as if he had been electrically shocked, a strangled cry breaking from his throat. "_No_-"

"Spike, it's me! Wake up!"

Cloud lashed out, his whole body arching up off the ground, and Zack began to feel really scared. This was no ordinary nightmare. He gripped his younger friend by the shoulders, trying to pin him down, and Cloud yelled in panic, struggling desperately. Zack cursed, knowing that this was not going to be doing the former infantryman's injuries any good, but there was little he could do about that. Cloud's whole body was stiffened and trembling, convulsing against Zack, and then suddenly his eyes snapped open and he flung his body backwards with a gasp of panic. Zack held up his hands in instinctive defence.

"Cloud, take it easy…"

Cloud scrambled backwards, eyes fixed in utter terror on Zack's face-utter bewilderment. With an icy chill that struck right through his marrow, Zack realised that Cloud did not recognise him. He leaned forwards, holding out one hand, as if to try and pacify a frightened animal, trying hard to conceal the panic that throbbed within. Cloud continued backing away, his breath coming fast and shallow, too shallow.

"Cloud," Zack said, voice a little unsteady. "Cloud Strife, come on. You know who I am."

Cloud shook his head desperately, eyes flashing about the camp as if searching for a way out of the trap he suddenly found himself trapped in. His back struck a rock and he stopped, flinging out his arms to defend himself.

"Yes, yes you do," Zack said intently. "Cloud, it's me, Zack. You're my best friend. You know me. I know you do. Come on."

Cloud's whole body seemed to convulse then, and he made a kind of desperate gasping sound as if struggling for breath, and then suddenly he was on his feet. Zack shot upright as well, terrified that Cloud would just bolt into the wilds, and sprang forwards. Cloud stumbled backwards, then suddenly lashed out with a yell of anger, hitting Zack across the face. Zack did not fall but he flinched away, astonished that Cloud could have done such a thing. Nor was his friend finished. He swung again for Zack's face, fist clenched, but Zack managed to block him and twist his arm, sending him crashing to the ground and dropping across him to pin him down. Cloud struggled desperately, strangled gasps issuing from between clenched teeth, his eyes wild and unseeing, completely maddened, the inflamed irises glowing a brighter blue than ever. Zack held him fast, stronger and heavier than Cloud, but inside he was a broken mess of shock, like shattered glass. This was beyond anything he had imagined-Cloud seemed to have just gone insane and attacked him, and Zack was unable to believe that things could have gone this badly wrong.

"Cloud!" he shouted suddenly. "Cloud, dammit, just snap out of it, okay? It's me!"

Cloud's body shuddered violently and then quite abruptly stilled. His eyes closed and he fell limp beneath Zack, as if he had suddenly passed out. Zack sat back, uncertain.

"Cloud?"

Cloud's eyes cracked open and he sucked in a long, shivering breath. "Zack?" he whispered, and gingerly pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Zack-what just-"

Zack noticed that his nose was bleeding. Despite his weakened state, Cloud could clearly pack one hell of a punch-that was probably quite a good sign. He put his hand to it, wiping away the worst of the blood. Cloud saw the motion and his ashen face took on a look of mingled panic and horror.

"Oh hell-did _I_ do that?"

"Um-"

Cloud dropped his head into his hands-suddenly he could feel the frail shell of courage that was all that had carried him through the last few days cracking, and the wild fear of what lay within himself rushing out to overwhelm him. "Zack," he whispered. "Zack, there's something…something _wrong_ with me…"

"Hey, hey, it's okay…" Zack barely knew what he was saying, only that the world around them was wild and dark and completely alien, and in face of Cloud's despair all he could think to offer was useless comfort.

"No," Cloud returned angrily. "No, it's not okay. I'm serious, Zack. You have to know…"

Zack sighed. So maybe they should have talked about this sooner. "I know," he said softly. "This green light thing. You don't know where it comes from?"

Cloud shook his head violently, blond spikes of hair falling into his face as he did so. "I thought I was going crazy, imagining it or something…" He closed his eyes momentarily. "Think I'm going crazy anyway."

"_No_," Zack disagreed firmly. "Spike, you went through hell. We both did. It's normal to be a little…"

"What?" Cloud interrupted almost savagely. "Traumatised? Is that what you were going to say? But this isn't trauma, Zack. This is something else. This green light, it's not normal, it's something…_else_. And attacking you-" His voice caught and took on a panicked, pleading tone. "Zack, I am so sorry, I swear I had no idea what…I didn't…I'm sorry-"

"It's fine," Zack interrupted. "Seriously, Spike. I know you didn't know what you were doing." He tried to smile. "Good to see you haven't forgotten _everything_ they taught you in SOLDIER, anyway."

"But _why_ didn't I know what I was doing?" Cloud demanded desperately. "And what if it happens again? What if you can't stop me next time?"

"Oh, I don't think I'll have a problem stopping you," Zack muttered. "You're half my size."

Cloud glared. "I am _not_. And that's not what I meant."

"I know."

"And this green light-where does it _come_ from?"

Zack hesitated, then ploughed ahead, voicing thoughts he had barely even admitted to himself. "You know-whatever this is-I think it saved my life."

Cloud's expression of barely-restrained panic morphed into one of surprise, then confusion. "What?"

Zack shrugged. "I don't know. But remember-on the cliff-when I was dying-"

Cloud nodded stiffly, face set to conceal the pain of the memory. It still haunted his dreams, despite how Zack sat alive and well before him now.

"Well, when I woke up, there was this green…stuff…around the scars. I was fine. Completely healed, you know? But it was like mako, like it'd healed me-like _you_ had healed me."

Cloud just stared. "That's crazy," he said at last. "That's completely crazy."

"Is it, though?" Zack pressed. "Hojo really messed you around. There was so much mako in your system sometimes I thought it was gonna kill you. Maybe it changed something. Maybe Hojo did something to you he never intended. Gave you abilities or something. Maybe the mako-"

"_No_," Cloud cried suddenly. "No no no-" He surged to his feet, fists clenched, trembling, and whirled round to hide his face. "No, stop it, for God's sake stop it!" he pleaded, his voice halfway between a yell and a sob. "_Please_," he finished in a whisper, and his head dropped. Zack, startled, rose swiftly and went over to his friend, laying a hand on Cloud's tense, shaking shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I shouldn't have…I know it's painful…remembering…"

"I can't think about it," came Cloud's broken whisper. "I just can't…thinking I'll never be free of it…if he did that to me…I don't wanna _think_ about it…"

"I know. I'm sorry. I know…"

Finally Cloud turned back to him, his breathing a little harsh but his face dry and set. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just…" He stopped, clearly making a superhuman effort to control himself. "So you think this is something to do with the mako they used on me?"

Zack just shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

Cloud nodded wordlessly and dropped back to the ground as if exhausted, pillowing his head on folded arms braced on his knees. Zack followed suit, then said impulsively: "We can find some kind of specialist, in Midgar, I bet. Somebody who knows about this stuff."

Cloud looked up, his eyes wide and bright as a child's. "You think so?"

"It's the capital," Zack said, as if that solved everything. "There's bound to be someone. First we just have to get there, and then we can find help for you. I swear we will."

"I hope so," Cloud said softly, his gaze passing Zack completely and fixing on the distant starry sky, the emptiness of space and darkness surrounding them. Zack sighed. "You're gonna be okay, Spike. I promise." But this time Cloud did not answer.

**Please review and let me know what you think! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Yay I have a quick update for you all-makes a bit of a change!**

Chapter 5:

The city of Midgar reared up from the network of tarmac motorways and low suburban buildings surrounding it, a splash of grey and glittering pinprick lights against the sky, its towers and spires jutting upwards like skeletons raising their fleshless arms on high against the backdrop of the shadowy twilight. Cloud stopped dead as they perceived it-it was like nothing he, a country boy from Nibelheim, had ever seen before.

"It's so big," he whispered. Zack gave a short laugh.

"That's why it's so great for hiding in. C'mon…" He strode on and Cloud, shaking himself free of the city's spell, had to run to catch up.

"Hey, Zack-what exactly can _we_ do _there_?"

"Well," Zack began. "You probably don't remember this. But I had this idea just before they attacked us."

Cloud thought back. His memories of the past year were returning horribly slowly, clouded by delirium and unconsciousness, confused by his impaired senses. He had to shake his head. "Sorry. I don't…"

"I just thought," Zack said cheerfully. "What are we best at? I mean what can we _do_?" He looked at Cloud as if waiting for an answer, but Cloud was at a loss. "Uh…"

"What have we spent our whole lives training for?"

Cloud frowned. "You're not talking about SOLDIER. They want us dead, remember? Or worse."

Zack rolled his eyes. "Thanks for that, Captain Obvious. We can _fight_, Spike, we've gotta be the best fighters outside SOLDIER in this whole world. We can sell that. There's a helluva lot of people want protectors, or mercenaries, or something." He was smiling broadly, awed by his own cleverness, and seemed surprised that Cloud did not share his elation. "What? D'you doubt my genius?"

Cloud shook his head. "No…but it's not that simple. We'd need money to get started, we'd need to advertise our services, and I thought we were supposed to be lying low. They're still searching for us, remember?"

"They think we're dead," Zack pointed out. "And we'll use fake names. I'll be Jasmine Cardew." Cloud still did not laugh, and Zack sighed. "Okay, what's _really_ bothering you?"

"Nothing," Cloud mumbled. He did not want to admit that the idea of the future was still one of uncertain and formless terror to him: Zack never seemed bothered by such irrational panics, and it was time Cloud pulled himself together and showed a little strength. Zack was just going to get completely sick of his uselessness at this rate. Zack looked at him narrowly, doubtfully, but let it go.

…

Bill, balding, foul-breathed and grumpy, slumped behind the desk of his motel, surveyed the two newcomers warily: they were not his usual kind of customer, and judging by the exhaustion in their faces and their travel-stained, ragged clothing they had just walked in out of the wilderness. The taller, dark-haired one looked mercenary and dangerous, even if there was no threat in his eyes, and he hovered around the smaller one like an older brother, glancing back to check he was still following as they entered, unconsciously shifting his body slightly in front of him at Bill's customary sullen glare.

"Ya want a room? Money first," Bill grunted without much interest. The dark stranger looked harassed.

"Look, we don't have any money right now but we will have really soon, so if you could just let us off and we can pay when we leave…"

The motel owner stared back belligerently, preparing his old unforgiving riposte of "No pay, no stay," before throwing them out, suddenly noticed the enormous sword badly concealed by some old sacking slung across the dark young man's back, the scars as if from many battles crossing his hands. He gulped, looking away-his gaze fell on the other stranger, who looked barely more than a kid and was ashen-faced and haunted-eyed like a survivor of some terrible trauma. But what finally made up the motel owner's mind was the way the kid's eyes burned such an intense and frighteningly bright blue he could not look into them for long.

These two were dangerous, and he might do well not to get on their bad side.

"Sure," he said uneasily. "Sure, why not…"

…

Zack kicked the motel room door closed behind them and sighed, dropping with relief onto the nearest bed. "Home sweet home, huh?" he said, lying back. It had been a very long time since he had lain on a bed, so long that he had almost forgotten the feel. "Hey, Cloud, did ya see the way that guy looked at us? He was _terrified_…"

"Yeah…" Cloud was clearly not listening, fumbling with the rusty catch of the dirty, stained window and pulling it wide, before hanging out to gaze across the city. He kept his hands gripping the sill firmly, to conceal the fact that they were shaking: he just somehow could not get over the wave of memories and flashbacks that surged back in over him, now that he was back within four solid walls for the first time since leaving the lab. He felt trapped, imprisoned, caged-he just wasn't about to let Zack see it.

"Well, I'd say the first step is to get some kinda job, to pay for our luxurious stay here at Hotel Midgar, and then we can get saving to fund our own business…" Zack rambled on, closing his eyes and allowing himself to fully relax into the softness of sheets and pillows for the first time in years. Cloud found that he was not obliged to answer: Zack was perfectly happy airing his plans to the whole world all by himself.

…

Cloud sat hunched into the corner of the motel room, arms wrapped around his knees, eyes screwed tight shut. His head seemed to be exploding, and the memories of their torture in the lab were so close he could feel their insanity ripping at his mind already. Zack had gone out, he said to find out where they could talk to someone about the after-effects of mako poisoning, but although Cloud knew his friend was trying to help him right now he was falling apart on his own, and more than anything he needed Zack to be near him, to tell him it was okay, just to shield him from the horrors that lay within himself…he could not be alone, he was breaking up inside and terror rose to claim him.

He knew right then that he would never be free of the lab, that whatever had been done to him had altered something irrevocable and fundamental inside him. It was not just the psychological effects, and those would be hard enough to deal with on their own. He could feel the change inside his cells, cursing him with these abilities, these moments of madness, making him someone he was not, stripping away even his humanity. The thought was torment and he felt himself slipping deeper into his own consciousness: he heard the screams of the past and finally allowed the images to take him-he had no strength to fight any longer. _Back in the lab, Hojo had paralysed his whole body with some drug and was now scanning his brain, opening the back of his skull and inspecting the inner workings of his head, and Cloud could not scream, frozen where he lay, he was only aware of the searing, agonising pain and driving, all-consuming terror_…

Zack pushed through the motel room door and immediately knew that something was wrong. It was pitch dark but for the faint glimmer of street lamps from outside; Cloud had not turned the lights on.

"Spike?" he called uncertainly. "Uh-Cloud?" He took a step forward and tripped over a chair; cursing he righted himself, squinting through the gloom. Finally he was able to make out a small hunched figure in the corner, and his brow creased in worry as he hurried across and dropped down beside it, reaching out to grab Cloud's shoulder.

"Hey, you okay?"

Cloud's head jerked up and a snarl of fury broke from his lips: Zack flinched away in horror as Cloud lashed out at him, his eyes wild and animal, completely devoid of recognition-his friend's blow connected, knocking Zack to the ground, but as Cloud tried to run past him he reached out and gripped his ankle, bringing him crashing down. Cloud gave a yelp of pain as he fell and clawed blindly at Zack, and then suddenly all the fight went out of him and he went still, his harsh, ragged breathing the only sound in the darkness.

"Zack," he whispered. "Zack, I'm so, so sorry…"

Zack sat up, relieved to find himself unhurt. "It's not your fault," he said, as he had before. "You couldn't help it."

Cloud just lay there, eyes wide open, staring into nothingness. "I could hurt you," he murmured, so softly he could have been speaking to himself. "Or someone. It's getting worse. What are we gonna do, Zack?"

Zack tried to smile. "Well, I did find a mako specialist who says he'd like to examine you."

Cloud looked up, a new hope flaring in his eyes. "You did? But-we don't have any money…"

"He doesn't know that yet." Zack shrugged. "It's worth a try."

…

Dr Freed looked up as the two young men entered his office, his blue eyes sharp and calculating below the half-moon glasses, his preferred black clothing giving him, when combined with his hooked nose and craggy features, the aspect of a hunched, overgrown raven, a tangle of white hair sprawling over the top of his head. He recognised the dark-haired, confident youth, now having removed his distinctive SOLDIER uniform in favour of less noticeable attire, and his gaze now fell on the other. Clearly this was the source of Zack's concerns about mako poisoning: his younger companion's eyes gleamed so bright a blue they almost hurt to look into, definite signs of the chemical's over usage.

"Zack Naskar," he said in welcome. "Good to see you again." Zack did not miss a beat at the sound of the alias he had given the doctor on arriving, and Cloud, though he looked a little taken aback, seemed to assimilate it quickly too.

"You too, doc," he said cheerfully, dropping into one of the two chairs opposite Freed's desk. Cloud, more shyly, hesitantly took the other. "This is my, uh, brother, Cloud," Zack told the doctor. "It's him who…"

"Yes, yes…" Freed nodded slowly. "And tell me, Cloud, how exactly did you come into contact with enough mako to have that effect on you?"

Cloud's mind drew a blank. He could not tell the truth-they'd both be arrested. He just stared at the doctor in panicked silence, trying desperately to think up some plausible lie. Zack came to his rescue.

"Our father used to run a mako reactor in, uh, Golgada. He left Cloud to handle it one day and it kind of exploded."

Dr Freed looked shocked. "But then you're amazingly lucky to have survived!"

"Yeah," Zack said with real fervour, oddly considering the explosion had never happened. "He was. But then he spent a year…" Cloud flinched. "Sort of catatonic. He only kind of recovered a few weeks ago and then, well, stuff like what I told you started happening."

"I see…" Dr Freed inspected Cloud closely until the youth started fidgeting uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze, and only then looked away. "I'd like to examine you properly, Cloud, if that's okay," he said. "It'll just be a few scans to see if there's anything up."

Cloud glanced instantly at Zack, who grinned his encouragement. "Uh…okay…I guess," he replied a little stiltedly, fighting the throb of panic inside. Freed stood up. "Excellent. Walk this way?"

…

"Cloud, I'm afraid I have some very bad news," Dr Freed said gravely, the tests being completed. He was now sitting opposite Cloud, the X-ray results in his hands, in the examination room. Cloud looked up, fear plain in his eyes, but clearly making an effort to appear brave.

"What is it?"

"Well-it seems that the mako you were exposed to during that explosion has somehow bonded with the cells of your body, effectively altering your genetic makeup. It's power, you have to understand that, which would be where these abilities of healing and suchlike could come from-it has in some way supercharged your body and during the year you spent sick with it you were undergoing a very profound transformation."

Cloud had gone paper-white and his face had taken on the expression of the injured animal caught in a trap; his eyes were fixed on the doctor's face as if pleading for some hope, any hope, of salvation. "But…but what can we do?" he said, his voice a little shaky. "There has to be some way…"

"No human being can deal with this kind of power or this kind of transformation," Dr Freed said gently. "You almost lost control of it a few times before, according to your brother. He said you attacked him, that you seemed to suffer some kind of temporary amnesia. I'm sorry, but the likelihood is that it will happen again, and at some point it will be irrevocable. You will lose control of these abilities and the power within you will do as it will until your body is completely burned out."

Cloud did not move or speak, frozen into a tight, icy shell of pure horror. This nightmare was really happening to him and the agony and terror inside threatened to rip him apart-he was not even aware of trying to appear strong, but was nevertheless grateful for the way his body seemed to have frozen up of its own accord, preventing the doctor from witnessing his inner breakdown.

"I am sorry," Dr Freed said softly. "But there is nothing I can do that you would survive." He stood up. "Come. Would you like me to be the one to tell your brother?"

Cloud's head jerked up to meet the doctor's eyes. He looked blasted, shattered, terrified, but he shook his head. "Please," he said hoarsely. "Can I just have…a few seconds…to think?" His voice was rough and low, not sounding like his own at all. Dr Freed nodded, his eyes filled with sympathy. "Of course. I'll be right through in the surgery." He moved across the examination room and left silently, leaving Cloud alone: Cloud let his head fall forward into his hands. Absently he massaged his temples where the roots of a headache were beginning to pulse.

…

"So what's the verdict?" Zack demanded, leaping up as Dr Freed re-entered the surgery where he had been waiting. "Where's Cloud?"

Dr Freed looked at him tiredly. "Your little brother wants to tell you himself what we discovered," he said evenly. "But I'm afraid the news is not good."

Zack blinked. "What do you mean? What did-" He was cut off at that moment by an agonised scream from the other room, and both he and the doctor started for the door. Neither of them was quick enough, though, and someone else got there first. The door to the examination room banged violently open to reveal Cloud standing there, his hands aflame with pulsing, mako-green light, eyes blindingly bright with madness. Zack felt all the breath rush out of him and staggered back.

"Spike, no-"

Cloud reached out a hand and a jet of green light flared from his palm, narrowly missing Zack and searing straight through the opposite door, which creaked open, the wood singed and splintered. Cloud strode through the room without looking to the side, knocking Zack to the ground when he reached out to try and stop him, and in a blaze of flashing light was gone. Once out of the building he began to run.

Zack struggled up from the ground, already making for the door to run after his friend, but he found Dr Freed clutching his arm and stopping him. "Get off me!" Zack cried angrily, trying to shove him away, but the doctor held him fast.

"Zack, there is nothing you can do," he said, his face twisted by horror and sorrow. "The only way to save your brother now is to kill him. I should probably tell you what we discovered."

**Haha, cliffy anyone? What's Zack going to do now? Reviews are much appreciated!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Yay another reasonably-quick update! I'm on a roll!**

**In this chapter I decided to show you the song that the title of this story comes from, 'Still Standing' by the Rasmus. I think it kind of fits as you'll see if you read the lyrics…it was certainly a part of my inspiration for this story!**

'**I wish you were here tonight with me to see the northern lights**

**I wish you were here tonight with me**

**I wish I could have you by my side tonight when the sky is burning**

**I wish I could have you by my side…**

'**Cause I've been down, and I've been crawling**

**Pushed around and always falling**

**You're up there; you're always with me**

**Smiling down on me**

**Can you stop the lies?**

**Falling from the skies**

**Down on me**

**I'm still standing**

**Can't you roll the dice?**

**I might be surprised**

**Conscience clear**

**I'm still standing here…'**

**(The way I see it, the 'I' of the lyrics would be Cloud, talking about Zack, but you can twist it any way you want…)**

Chapter 6:

Zack narrowed his eyes as he dropped low to the ground, trying to read the direction of Cloud's passage from the vague markings of his footprints in the dust. Dr Freed, beside him, laid a placating hand on his shoulder, which Zack batted impatiently away.

"Zack-he's long gone. There is nothing you can do for him now."

"I'm not asking for your opinion," Zack snarled through gritted teeth, straightening up and pointing. "He went that way." They had already left Midgar, following Cloud's uneven trail, and now the surrounding wasteland yawned before them, devoid of human life, the craggy rocks and cliffs like traps, or prisons, or hiding places. The sky was grey and empty, soulless, and Zack could not help thinking that it exactly reflected his mood. He did not even dare to think too deeply in case despair overcame him. He had to focus his mind on finding Cloud, and from there he would just have to improvise.

"He's lost control, Zack. I told you what that means. He's gone and all we can do is kill him to spare him further pain."

Zack whirled on the doctor then, face taut with fury. "Will you just _shut up_? I honestly don't _care_ what you think of this, he's my friend and no matter what I am going to get him out of this. You understand me?"

The doctor looked cowed by his rage, but spoke anyway, quiet and sorrowful. "I'm telling you that you _can't_ get him out of it. It's impossible."

Zack just turned away and pressed on after his lost friend, ignoring his companion completely. He was not even sure why Dr Freed was coming along, except that he had just followed him, and there was a strong chance that one of them was going to need a doctor before this was over, which was why Zack had not yet sent him packing. But he was growing more and more tempted to do just that: he did not need to be told again the doctor's opinion that there was no hope for Cloud. It did not help at all and it made little difference.

Zack and Freed tracked Cloud all that day: his trail was quite clear, as in his maddened state he was evidently not in any condition to think about concealing his passage or even why he might need to, but he had come far, propelled by a strength that was not in his body but preying on it. Finally the trail ended on the rocky step entrance into a deep, winding cave in a small ravine: peering inside Zack could see nothing at all, the shadows pressing so closely into pitch blackness, blocking out any shred of light even five metres in.

"It would make sense that he would go underground," Dr Freed mused. "The power might be trying to return to its source."

Zack shrugged. "Maybe. Well, I'm going on in, but you're not expected to come." He strode forwards fearlessly, the darkness swallowing him up in silence after mere seconds: Dr Freed hesitated, then gritted his teeth and followed the young SOLDIER into the shadows of the cave.

They walked for what felt like hours through total darkness, Zack completely unafraid for himself but fighting the panic over what might be happening to Cloud, the doctor jumpy and on edge, perpetually stumbling over loose stones and walking into walls. After a very long time Zack glimpsed a flickering of light at the end of the tunnel and, heartened, quickened his pace. Gradually the light grew brighter until he realised that it was the emerald mako light that he had come to associate with Cloud.

They were catching up.

Zack paused at the end of the tunnel, shrinking back into the shadows to get his bearings before ploughing on in. Before him lay a small, almost perfectly round stone chamber, its walls unnaturally smooth and glistening with minerals and precious stones that flung the green light all about the cave, distorting the shadows and casting demonic tints against rock formations, giving them the aspects of evil, twisted gargoyle faces. Kneeling with his back to Zack across the cavern, Cloud was slumped with bowed head, his fists clenched and still glowing fiercely with the power sparking within him. Zack's heart lurched at the sight of his friend so alone and defeated, but as he made to take a step forward Dr Freed grabbed his shoulder and dragged him back.

"If you insist on going in there then you can at least try not getting yourself killed!" he snapped in a whisper. "Be careful. He's not what he seems. He's not your brother any more."

Zack looked away with a kind of desperation, back to Cloud's trembling, tense figure so tormented by the intensity of energy no human being should ever have been exposed to. "He'll always be my brother," he returned almost inaudibly, more to himself than to his companion, and stepped boldly forwards into the chamber.

Cloud did not turn as he approached, though Zack made little effort to be quiet. He did not want to sneak up on his friend; he doubted it would help the situation much. He crossed the cavern without hesitation until he was standing just behind Cloud, then reached out to touch his friend's shoulder.

"Hey, Spike, I came to bring you home."

Cloud jerked round, coming to his feet in one fluid motion, knocking Zack's hand away. Zack felt his heart sink: it was clear that Cloud did not recognise him, that he was still under the control of the energy within him. For an instant they stood frozen facing each other, their eyes locked, the tension between them rising to an unbearable peak, and then quite suddenly Cloud spun round and loosed a vivid emerald lightning bolt at the doctor, who had just been coming forwards. The green light connected-struck him in the middle of the chest-Dr Freed was flung backwards without a cry to come to rest twisted against the rocks, motionless, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his clothes singed away from a burned, blackened diamond shape above his heart. Zack did not know if was alive or dead-all he could dwell on in that moment was the horror of what Cloud had done.

Cloud turned slowly back to Zack, his right hand still raised against his chest, the green flame flickering in his palm, apparently not burning his skin or emitting any heat. His eyes blazed with inhuman, animal power and his head lifted. Zack just stood there, unable to comprehend how things could have gone so badly wrong.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered as Cloud took another step towards him, hypnotised by the ruin of his friend, his brother, whom he had died for, and fought for for so long. "I'm so sorry…I failed you."

Cloud stopped.

"So maybe there was nothing I could have done in the lab," Zack went on, his voice low and hopeless. "I always tried to protect you, Spike. I'd tell them to take me, not you, sometimes I'd attack them, fight to stop them taking you. But it was you they wanted-I guess this is why. The mako did stuff to you it never did to me. But hell-there must have been something I could've done."

Cloud had gone unnaturally still, his eyes still blazing but somehow faraway. The hand that did not burn green was clenched at his side, so tightly Zack could see the tendons standing out stiff in his arms.

"It was like you were all I had to fight for," he said softly. "I stopped caring whether I made it after a while, so long as you were okay. I should've been ready for this. I should've stayed with you. I could've helped, I know I could. I'm so sorry, Spike. I'm so sorry…it's this screwed up world that did this to you and I should've been able to protect you. You were never meant for this."

And Cloud, suddenly, was flying:

_Zack smashing a bulky orderly across the face. Zack dragging him up off the ground into his arms, distorted voice pleading with him to be strong just a little while longer. Zack thrashing furiously against his bonds as Hojo stabbed yet more needles into Cloud's skin. Zack curled on a stone bench, grimacing with the effort of not screaming, blood trickling from long diagonal cuts across his face. Zack summoning a smile, weary but bright in an endlessly dark place, a joke Cloud could not now remember. Zack carrying him slung across his back in the light of the moon, gaze fixed on the distant lights of Midgar. Zack tipping water into his mouth, joking about the indignity he knew Cloud must be suffering and making it okay. Zack telling him to sleep, to ease the pain, that it would seem more bearable come the morning. Zack, always there to help. Always there._

Zack, standing before him, destroyed by pain and grief, having suffered so much and sacrificed so much to finally arrive at this point and die at Cloud's hands. _My hands_. My hands-my power.

Cloud's eyes clenched shut. The world was mako green, a miasmic haze of light and pain, a barrier. He thrashed against it but in vain, mustered all his will against it, flinging himself against it, clawing at it desperately. It's _my_ body, he howled into the silence of his own mind. My body-my hands-my power. I should be able to _stop_ this-

An explosion of pain and light-he felt hands catch him as he pitched forward, lowering him down onto the stone-he had not been aware of beginning to fall. Trembling violently, his breath coming fast and ragged, head spinning, throbbing, he looked up at Zack through the fronds of fair hair spiking into his face, and Zack was smiling, crying as he knelt before him, holding him up by the shoulders.

"I knew you could do it," he was saying, over and over. "I knew it wasn't too late…"

"Zack-" Cloud gasped. "Zack-you gotta…you gotta kill me…stop this happening…again…"

Zack's face set in a sudden scowl of angry obstinacy. "_No_," he snarled. "No, Cloud. We can deal with this together. You're not dying on me now."

Cloud gripped his arm, blue eyes wide and pleading. "I can't hurt anybody else," he begged. "_Please_, Zack. I'll…I'll do it myself…can't live like this…"

"No!"

Another voice then, weak and strained-they both turned to see Dr Freed struggling towards them, one arm twisted at a wrong, painful angle against his back, his face bloody, clearly in terrible shape but speaking fast and hoarsely: "There could be another way." Cloud opened his mouth to say something, to _apologise_, uselessly, but Dr Freed cut him off. "It isn't you, Cloud. It's all right."

"What other way?" Zack pressed forcefully. Dr Freed paused, gathering his waning strength.

"You came down here because the energy inside you wanted to return to its source, in the earth," he said to Cloud. "There's a chance you could discharge that energy here…but I don't know…what the consequences…" He broke off suddenly into a hacking cough that convulsed his whole body, and when he was done spat blood onto the rocks before continuing doggedly: "What the consequences…could be…anything could happen…unlikely you'd…survive…"

Cloud lifted his head. "What do I have to do?" he said. Zack yelled in anger.

"Cloud, no! Didn't you hear what he said? It could kill you!"

"I can't live like this," Cloud repeated simply, staring back at his friend with equal stubbornness. "I have to try, Zack. I have to." He looked back at Dr Freed and nodded.

Following the doctor's instructions Cloud got to his feet and made his way to the back wall of the cavern, the one that glistened brightest with minerals: he laid his two hands against it, feeling the roughness of the sparkling stone under his palms; he took a deep, calming breath.

"I don't know how to do it voluntarily," he admitted quietly.

Dr Freed and Zack still stood at the back of the cavern, where the doctor deemed it just about far enough away to be safe. "It is within you," he now told Cloud. "But…"

Cloud turned and Zack's mouth tightened. "But?" Cloud asked warily. The doctor sighed.

"If you purge yourself of the mako energy this way it could destroy you. You need to be aware of that before you try this, Cloud. No-one has ever attempted anything like this before, but the energy has become a part of your body and losing it now could be…devastating."

"Well then why are we wasting our time here?" Zack spat. "Cloud and me can just deal with this our own way. C'mon, let's get outa here-"

Cloud shook his head. "No, Zack," he said softly. "I have to do this."

Zack stumbled forwards as if against his will, reckless in desperation, haling unsteadily halfway to his friend and freezing, helpless. "You can't," he pleaded. "Don't you understand, Spike, I can't do it without you! Not after everything!"

He saw the heartbreak in Cloud's eerily glowing eyes, saw it and dared hope. Then-"I'm sorry, Zack," Cloud whispered, and turned back to the wall, bracing his hands against it. Zack yelled in anger and started forwards, and then there was a blast of emerald light so intense it blinded him, flinging him back against the rocks to Dr Freed. Suddenly Zack could think only to crawl, to struggle to some meagre shelter and cover his face-in one swinging flash of darkness he saw Cloud's slight form tense and shaking, fused to the rock wall, in the exact centre of the miasma, and then he had to shield his eyes again, unable to bear the sheer searing brilliance of the energy loosed into that chamber. The energy inside Cloud.

The green light faded fast, draining out of the air like blood from an open wound, leaving only the crystals and minerals of the cavern walls gleaming faintly the colour of mako. Zack looked up, came to his feet, seeing Cloud leaning as if exhausted against the wall across the cavern, breathing hard, head hanging low.

"Cloud?"

Cloud looked up and met his eyes, and then he suddenly crumpled to the ground and lay motionless on the rock, utterly spent.

**There'll be one more chapter of this story to come, hope you liked this one! Reviews are inspiration!**


	7. Chapter 7

Well here's the last chapter for you all! Hope you like it-I think I should probably point out that I'm not trying to keep this to canon especially, since I don't know most of what happens in the game, just so you're warned it's not my intention.

Epilogue:

Cloud thought, as he sat on the edge of the pavement outside the clinic waiting for Zack, that the sky had never been bluer, and in the middle of a large, thriving city like Midgar that was certainly an accomplishment. He smiled, for what felt like the first time in years, as Zack stepped out of the building opposite and hurried towards him.

"The doc's gonna make it," he reported, beaming. "He's conscious, they even let me talk to him. So you didn't do as much damage as you thought, huh?"

Cloud nodded. "Thanks," he said softly. "I mean for finding out."

Zack surveyed him narrowly. "You look tired," he observed. "C'mon, I think it's time we got home…" Cloud grabbed at the wall to steady himself as he levered himself to his feet, a little unsteady and very pale, but a lot better than he had been only days ago. He had almost died in the cave-Zack had been convinced he had. Dr Freed, however, had found a weak pulse in his wrist, and somehow they had managed to get him back to Midgar and the seedy motel room, where he had lain for three days tormented by a dangerously high fever, delirious and fading fast. Zack had not dared take him to a hospital for fear of being recognised, and in any case according to Dr Freed, who of course been admitted to one straight away, it would do little good. Cloud had to fight this battle on his own. And fought it he had, and won it too, and now barely a week later here he was, mobile and walking, still weak and shaky, not to mention reliving it all in horrifically real nightmares every time he closed his eyes, but, at last, _okay_.

Zack had worked a couple of nights as a bouncer in a city bar not far away, thus earning just enough money to pay for their stay in the motel a little while longer, and by now it was beginning to feel like a kind of home. Cloud was no longer swamped with memories of the dungeons of Hojo's manor every time he stepped through the door, as he did now: maybe nearly dying in a place could do that to you. He dropped onto his bed, exhausted by the short walk, frustrated by his weakness.

"You have to give yourself time," Zack told him ironically. "You went through hell, Spike."

"You keep saying that," Cloud muttered. "But you've endured it too."

Zack sighed and sat down on his own bed, facing Cloud squarely across the narrow barrier of floor between them, feeling as they had been heading for this conversation for a long time now, and slightly disoriented that it came so suddenly and unexpectedly now. "Look," he said. "I know you don't like seeming weak. I know you're humiliated by being poisoned. I know you seem to think you have to prove something."

Cloud lowered his eyes. "Zack…"

"No, listen. You don't have anything to prove, Cloud. Getting over the mako poisoning wasn't something anyone could do. You were lucky to survive what happened in the cave. You don't have anything to be sorry about, or ashamed of." But the certainty and the trust in Zack's voice only scraped Cloud's heart the more raw: he felt unworthy, suddenly of such a friend.

"Zack," he whispered. "I failed at getting into SOLDIER. I failed when we went to Nibelheim, if I hadn't let Sephiroth stab me we could've got out before Hojo found us. I failed over and over again in the lab, I was weak, I hated them-_hated_ them for making me weak. And then-afterwards-" he took a shuddering breath, fighting tears now that finally he was admitting everything, all the unworthiness and uselessness inside him. Now Zack would know what he really was, at any rate. "Everything I've ever done in my life I screwed up," he went on, voice roughening. "And you've suffered for it. I'm not a little kid who needs taking care of every second, and if I am I shouldn't be. I'm twenty years old and all I have to show for it is failure." He bent his head to hide his face, eyes clenched tight shut against the searing pain, hearing Zack's silence like an accusation.

"Spike."

He did not respond.

"Spike, that's not true. Our lives have been screwed up these past years. Both of us. You…you were unlucky and that's nobody's fault. You haven't failed in everything. You killed Sephiroth, remember? I was watching-nobody else could've done that, injured like that. It was…amazing. You're still alive, and let's be honest that's one hell of an achievement."

Cloud shrugged, not trusting his voice.

"And SOLDIER…" Zack sighed. "Well, look what happened to SOLDIER. There's times I've been ashamed that it's a part of me. To get into SOLDIER you don't just have to be good, and smart, and well-trained, you have to be ruthless, too, when you have to be."

"I could've been," Cloud said, almost inaudibly. "I could've…"

"Maybe. If it helps, you would've made a great SOLDIER. If for nothing else then 'cause you're so damned stubborn." He grinned but Cloud's heart was not lifted. "There's luck involved, too, and who your family knows, and whether the examiners like you, and what kind of mental state you're in at the time…you shouldn't be ashamed of not getting in. It's as corrupt as anything else." He gazed across at the dejected figure of his friend opposite him. "And who even cares?"

Cloud's head bobbed up. "Huh?"

"You heard me. Who even cares whether you got into SOLDIER or not? You pissed them off royally and that takes the more skill in my book. It's all in the past, Spike, and this whole world might be out to get us so we've just gotta pull ourselves together, look ahead and never stop fighting. Okay?"

"But…"

"Whatever we remember, we have to put it behind us. It hurts and maybe it always will, but we've gotta make a future now. You with me, Spike? 'Cause I don't want to have to do it on my own." There was just a trace of fear in Zack's dark eyes, just a trace of doubt, as he looked at Cloud, waiting for a response, and suddenly the sun struck through the dirty window and cast a beam of pure light across the ex-SOLDIER's face. Cloud smiled then.

"You don't _want_ to?" he quipped. "You couldn't if you tried."

"Is that a challenge, chocobo-head?"

"Hey," Cloud said half-heartedly. "There's nothing wrong with my hair."

"No," Zack agreed. "Not for a chocobo." Suddenly his eyes lit up. "Hey, I nearly forgot. I met somebody at the bar the other night, somebody who asked about you."

Cloud frowned. "Me? But I don't know anybody in Midgar…"

"Apparently you do," Zack said, a glint of mischief plain in his face. "Some girl named Tifa…now where did I put that phone number she gave me…" He made a big show of hunting through his pockets, while Cloud watched, astounded. "Aha, there it is." He held up a small scrap of paper. "She actually told me to give this to you but since you apparently don't know her…" he wagged his eyebrows. "Well, she was hot."

Cloud leaped on him, snatching for the paper. "Give that here!" he ordered, laughing.

Zack blew out a noisy sigh of exasperation. "Spike, you'll never call her. You'll just stare at the phone looking freaked for three hours. It's a waste."

Cloud fumbled for the paper. "I will not."

"Oh, yes you will. You even did it to your mother when you were in the militia. I was there. You just have a thing about communicating with people…"

Cloud finally managed to snatch the paper off Zack and backed away fast, triumphant. "We'll see," he challenged. Zack rose up off his bed, grinning a shark's smile, and gestured to the phone. "Go ahead. I'm watching."

Cloud's smile vanished and he stared at the phone as if it were a live wire. Zack folded his arms. "What did I tell you…"

Cloud shot him a glare, then marched across, scooped up the phone and dialled fast, clearly as much to prove Zack wrong as anything else. He waited for three rings, heart in his mouth, then started to put the phone down. "She's not picking up," he aid with a mixture of regret and victory, then suddenly started violently as the phone was lifted at the other end of the line.

"Hello?" a voice he recognised instantly asked. "This is Tifa…"

"Hey," Cloud said hoarsely, palms sweating. "Hey, Tifa. It's Cloud Strife, remember me?"

**Well there it is, the end! I hope you liked this epilogue and I want to thank all those who read this story, who added it to alert or favourite, and most of all those of you who took the time to review, especially LastOrder1 and Irish-Brigid who've reviewed all the last few chapters, it's hugely encouraging and I wouldn't have finished it without your support! So thank you all so much!**


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